twenty-second, apr

the potent aroma of the candles, dripping down my crown - god i'm brain drunk - makes a for a rather pleasant daydream, but is not a fruitful environment for the formation of words.
each one is so very malnourished at this point in time. but i can describe somewhat: things were getting movie strange. the dj providing my unwilling story a soundtrack that didn't fit so well.
i found seating next to a very disturbed young man (though older than i was at the time), neurotic for he couldn't take a single sad story to his head and what bad luck: this world is full of sad fucking stories. what else is there to do in that situation but spiral out crazy? unconveniently for him, the girl across the table described how she unwillingly lost her virginity, appeared well-practiced in relaying the succession of events, the appropriate hand gestures to accompany them.
he put his hands over his ears and muttered incoherently. though, i believe he was making perfect sense to himself, the garbled shit i heard shat out probably ringing clearly in his ears. head hurting from trying too hard to decipher, i found his weakness to be pricking my right side, where the gland (mostly) responsible for annoyance secretions resides. i needed an excuse to go outside, and being one who has never been fond of smoking, felt trapped in this surreal fucking scene.

i leave your house real confused. guilty that i didn't make the night the best it could have possibly been. i can't concentrate on staying in my lane, the soundtrack still in my head. i'm wearing a plaid shirt, and i feel in character.

PRV,ARCHVS,NXT,INDX,INFO.